Not One Battle Famous
by Merlin Missy
Summary: An old enemy returns and Bruce and Clark must put aside their differences to fight him.  Written for the 'Revenge of the DCAU Ficathon.'
1. Chapter 1

Not One Battle Famous  
a Justice League Unlimited story  
by Merlin Missy  
Copyright 2006  
PG-13 

DC and Warner Bros. own the toys. I just play with them. Written for Flasher in the "Revenge of the DCAU Ficathon." Spoilers up through "Destroyer" and RotJ. With thanks to **xffan2000** for the beta!

Summary: When an old enemy returns, Bruce and Clark have to set aside their problems to deal with him.

* * *

They set the last box down gingerly. Everything was marked "Fragile." 

"Are you sure that's everything?" asked Stoffer, rubbing his back.

Kline marked the last line on his checklist. He'd been drawing a government paycheck for twelve years, ten more than Stoffer, and even if the kid was bright and eager and was probably going to be promoted out of this end of Special Services in another month, he needed to learn some damn patience. "I'm sure," Kline said finally.

"Great! So what's this stuff for, anyway?"

Kline glanced at the top of the sheet. The words had been struck out with black marker, but he could make out letters that looked like: "CAO S."

"You've got me. Another scrapped project. Your tax money at work, pal."

Stoffer snorted and closed the door, letting Kline punch in the code.

* * *

The boxes sat.

* * *

The world changed, as the world tended to do. The movers and shakers married and had children and divorced and did not marry at all and had no children and died valiantly and there were rumors, always rumors. The Near Apocalypse of '06 was forgotten in the wake of the Near Apocalypse of '09. 

Membership in the League flexed up and then down and up again.

Still the boxes sat.

* * *

The door opened. 

"What's this stuff?" asked Thomason.

"Some old project. Stop asking questions," said Stoffer, who had not been keen enough after all, and worse, had been cursed with the gift of saying what he thought when he should have kept his mouth shut. He consulted his own clipboard. "We're looking for box 1938-J."

"Got it." Thomason matched up the code on the box to the one on Stoffer's paperwork. "What d'you think they'll use this thing for, anyway?"

"Who knows? Could be a ray gun, could be the cure for cancer. You know how it goes. Somebody loses funding and no one remembers what they were working on." He figured maybe somebody was looking in back records and said, "Hey, this looks cool." That happened when they got new people in charge. Otherwise, this stuff just sat.

"You wanna see what it is?"

"No. They see the tape broken, that's your head and mine."

Thomason deflated. Then he looked around. "Okay. Fine. We bring them a box with the tape broken, they'll be pissed. But if we look in one of the other boxes, who's going to know it was us?"

Stoffer thought about this. There weren't cameras, not in here. If he happened to open the box that _did_ hold the cure for cancer, then he'd practically be doing the world a service, wouldn't he?

Also, he was bored. And Thomason was bored, and Davis, who'd gotten the supervisor job that should've been Stoffer's anyway, had been a bitch all day.

"Okay. We pick just one, and then we go."

Thomason grinned.

The first box didn't count because it turned out just to be paperwork, lab notebooks with printouts taped inside. The second box held the contents of somebody's desk, likely a few somebodies from the duplicate staplers.

The third box held a ray gun. Well, it looked like a ray gun. As they stared at it, wondering what on Earth it could be for, Stoffer got a bad feeling in the back of his head, like they really should have stopped with the office supplies. "Let's put this back."

"Okay." Thomason had the same look; not fear, just worry.

As they both made to grab the thing, one of them touched a button. A weird light shot out, and as they watched, terrified of how much trouble they were about to get in, a giant grey monster formed in front of them.

Neither man had ever heard of Project Cadmus, had no idea what Project Doomsday was (although Stoffer had seen the fight on the news, he didn't remember it now), and had no reason to know what a Phantom Zone projector was.

But if there was to be a bright side, it was that neither lived long enough to get in trouble for opening the box.

* * *

Bruce woke from a shallow dream to Alfred's words: "Master Bruce, please wake up." 

"What time is it?" He shook off the sleep as well as he could; his night had lasted until seven am.

"Just before ten, sir. There's something you need to see on the news." Alfred turned on the television without further prompting.

The Doomsday creature was rampaging through downtown Washington. Even as Bruce watched, Clark flew onto the screen and began pummeling it. In the background, other members of the League appeared in white beams of transporter-light: Captain Atom, the Flash, the new Lantern. Big-hitters all.

"Keep an eye on it," he told Alfred. He lay back down and rolled over.

"Sir?"

"This isn't my fight."

"Yes, sir. Sir?"

"What now?"

"You have a meeting in an hour with the Board."

Bruce sighed into his pillow.

* * *

Flash swore. He'd seen the creature on the monitor right before they'd beamed in, but he'd forgotten that little swell of fear in his stomach until he watched Doomsday swat Captain Atom away like a bug. The monster had defeated the Justice Lords once upon a time, and the only reason Superman hadn't died fighting him later was because he had a volcano handy. Last time Wally checked, there weren't any volcanos in downtown DC, though as Doomsday broke through one of GL's bubbles he began to wonder if they ought to transport one there for the purpose. 

_Transport._

"Flash to Watchtower. Can you get a lock on this guy and do a site-to-site transport into the nearest active volcano?"

"Watchtower to Flash. No. Site-to-site is down again and we are not beaming him to one of the Towers."

Superman punched the creature, knocking it back and not ducking in time as it smacked one enormous hand against his face. Flash zipped between them, running faster and faster around Doomsday, trying to take away his air.

"You consigned me to Hell," said the monster, plucking him up deftly with both hands and grabbing his legs. Wally bit back his scream as he felt bones in both legs break, and bit back another as the creature threw him to the ground. GL scooped him up and pulled him out of the way as Captain Atom let loose with a nuclear blast on the guy.

"How bad is it?" GL asked him, scanning Wally's legs with his ring.

"I'll be okay." No use looking like a crybaby in front of the new kid. Still, he winced in pain as he tried to move, and his fingers itched to ask for an emergency beamout.

Lights flashed around him, and for a second, Wally thought he'd been beamed up anyway. Then more of his coworkers appeared. Beatriz and Tora stood right beside him. He quirked a smile at them both.

"Hey."

Tora ignored him, but Bea gave him a quick smile before focusing on Doomsday. They'd finally broken up for the very last time, wow, it would be a year ago next month. A whole year would have passed since he'd admitted his feelings for Linda were stronger than any he'd ever felt before. Weird. But Beatriz was still his friend, still someone he liked and trusted. Hers had been the shoulder he'd cried on when they'd lost John, and hers was the ear he still talked to when he said he wasn't sure he would be able to work with this Rayner guy.

Now he watched her with her partner, taking positions opposite Doomsday as Superman pummeled him. Superman backed off just as Tora blasted him with Arctic cold until Doomsday was frozen solid, then Bea blasted him with green fire, trying to find a crack somewhere in his solid frame.

Nothing.

And Amazo was on a deep space mission. Wally swore again. He poked his communicator.

"Flash to Watchtower. In case this hasn't been mentioned before, this is Omega-level."

"Negative," said J'onn. "We have faced Doomsday before. Superman has beaten him twice without assistance."

Clark's voice cut in, "I had help last time, and before that, it wasn't me." He was across the way from Wally, and was breathing hard over the comm, resting for a moment as GL smacked Doomsday with a big, green fish.

"Nevertheless," said J'onn.

"Call Batman in," said Superman.

"Um," Wally said. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

J'onn added, "He has requested not to be involved in League affairs unless it is absolutely necessary." That was an amazingly diplomatic revision of history, Wally thought, since Bruce's actual quote had been quite detailed, including a special section for the horse Clark rode in on.

"I'm sure," said Superman. "Hurry!" He took off from where he'd landed and slammed full-body into Doomsday.

"Fantastic," said Wally, more to himself than anyone else.

* * *

tbc 


	2. Chapter 2

"Watchtower to Batman," said the voice in Bruce's ear. He pasted a stupid smile on his face.

"Sorry, Lucius. I need to slip out for just a moment." To the annoyance though not the surprise of his board of directors, Bruce walked out of the room and straight to his office.

When the door was shut and locked, he poked his ear. "How did you get this frequency?" he demanded.

"We've had it for years," J'onn told him simply. "We do not use it to monitor your movements or those of your allies, if that's why you're worried."

"I'm not. Transmission ended."

"Wait!" And there was the pleading note he'd been waiting for. "We need your help."

"No. You don't. The League made it perfectly clear it could function without me."

"Your argument with Superman notwithstanding, you chose to leave."

"None of you helped me look for Robin. Not one." For months, he'd been pushing this pain down and away, but there was no hiding from J'onn and it frothed out of him like a geyser.

"Bruce." J'onn's voice was quiet and a touch hurt; he'd been in space the whole time, on a mission with Flash and Lantern.

"I'm done."

"We need you. Doomsday is tearing up Washington, and we cannot stop him."

"What makes you think I can?"

"You're Batman," J'onn said simply.

"This is a job for Superman."

"He thinks it's a job for you."

Bruce paused. Had he been the one trying to woo him back, he wouldn't have mentioned Clark. J'onn had to know that saying so would make it even less likely that Bruce would say yes. "I can't help. This is Clark's mess. He was the one who judged Doomsday and send him to the Phantom Zone. I can't clean it up for him."

"Then more people will die while we try to stop him without you," J'onn said.

Now Bruce understood. Superman was asking him to help, knowing he would say no. Then, just as he'd blamed the twelve deaths caused by the Secret Society after that now-infamous "five minute head start" on Bruce, he could lay at Batman's feet any deaths Doomsday caused now. "We called Batman," he would say, "and he didn't come." It might even wipe his conscience clean from not having come when Bruce had needed him, had needed all of them, to try and find Tim.

_Bastard,_ Bruce thought.

"Give me twenty minutes." He heard J'onn's breath catch, and understood J'onn had expected the no, not the yes. "I need to change my suit."

VVVVVVVV

Clark was tired. J'onn had beamed in more Leaguers to help, but the truth was, none of them were getting through, and the wounded were getting beamed out almost as fast as fresh fighters were arriving.

Another transport beam shimmered, and Bruce stood three feet away from him.

"Thanks," Clark said, not trusting himself to say anything else.

"Thank me when he's gone. What have we sent against him?"

"Everything we've got, short of the laser cannon or a nuke."

"The laser cannon is decommissioned," said Bruce.

"That's why we haven't used it."

"What about the magic users?"

"Immune."

"Amazo?"

"We've contacted him, but he's half a galaxy away." He saw in the tightness of Bruce's jaw that he was running low on plans.

"And this isn't considered Omega level?" Bruce asked, ducking behind a building as Static flew by, unconscious; Clark flew up to catch him and carried him to the ground, where he touched Static's comm and said, "Emergency beamout."

He nodded to Bruce and went out to attack the creature again. By now, he knew he wasn't going to defeat it with force, but he _could_ buy the rest time while they figured out how.

He hit Doomsday in the face, swerving and dodging before the other's blows could land. He'd tried the heat vision trick early, and it had failed just as it had failed in the volcano. Instead, he tried burning the creature's eyes, just as one leg spun up and kicked Clark solidly in the hip. He faltered and recovered in time to duck another kick.

Three punches fast to Doomsday's gut, before the creature hit him on the back so hard he was driven six feet into the pavement. Gravel and concrete filled his mouth, and he spat rocks as he tried to climb to his knees. Too late --- Doomsday stepped on his back.

"Withdraw!" Bruce shouted over the comm. "All League, withdraw and take cover, radiation alert!"

Clark struggled below Doomsday's foot, but couldn't move. The creature was crushing him deeper and deeper into the earth. _Radiation?_

Suddenly he was surrounded by heat. He heard screams, realized some were coming from Doomsday. The asphalt around him grew slick and began to liquify. _So hot. Must've sent the nukes._

"Superman!" His comm buzzed but it was melting in his ear. "Superman!" _Bruce._ "Push him in!"

_In?_

Clark pushed up, tired and battered. He grabbed hold of Doomsday's foot and pushed. Too much light, too much heat, and he stood, holding the screaming monster. In the bright, he could just see Scott Free standing with his Mother Box, a boom tube open into what could only be a sun, and Clark knew Bruce's plan.

With one desperate toss, he threw Doomsday into the boom tube, into the distant star.

Scott hit the Mother Box to close the boom tube, and collapsed to his knees onto the molten pavement. Clark reached him before he fell, but the star had been so close, and there had been so much radiation. Scott lay in his arms, blind and burned and barely breathing.

"Emergency transport," Clark managed to get out, and watched Scott disappear in what was barely a light at all.

Without the blinding sunlight, everything looked so dark in contrast that when Bruce approached, it was as though he brought all the shadows of the world with him.

"I asked to hold the Mother Box," Bruce said. "He wouldn't let me."

"No," said Clark. Mister Miracle would have believed he would escape. "He's a New God. There's a chance." Except there wasn't, and even as his vision was slowly returning, he saw on Bruce's face that he knew that too.

"How many dead?" Bruce asked him.

"We won't know for a while."

"They're on your hands," Bruce told him simply.

"I know." Five of them in judgement, but it had been Clark's decision. "Bruce. Thanks."

"You'd have thought of it eventually." Later, Clark would think Bruce paid him one of the highest compliments he could, even as he added, "Don't call me again unless the Earth is being destroyed. And next time, have J'onn call my cell phone."

Clark nodded, and watched Bruce turn and walk into a shadow, and then he was gone.

The End


End file.
